Ecstacy Isn't The Only Powerful Sexual Motivator
by Eliza4892
Summary: Izzie and alcohol just doesn't mix. Obviously.


Izzie couldn't stay in that house, in that room, any longer. She'd done everything she could think of to get rid of any and all memory of him, from stripping the bed they slept in together all the way to taking all of George's stuff out of his old room and shoving it into a box for him to pick up at a later date. Alex had sat on the bed and watched her dig through George's drawers with some degree of confusion and worry.

"Iz, are you sure you really want to be doing this?" He asked, his eyes going back and forth between her and the box every time she tossed something inside it.

"Yes, I am. It's not his room anymore." She replied, pulling out a picture of her and George she barely remembered taking. That one was placed face down inside the box. "He doesn't live here; he's made that pretty clear. And you do, so you need the room anyway."

"No, I'm pretty sure this has nothing to do with me." He observed. She turned her head to glare at him because he was right. This was about ridding herself – and this house – of George so she could move on. Forget about this drunken indiscretion. She started on the last drawer and Alex tried again. "I think maybe you need to get out of here for a while."

She stopped only very briefly to tell him. "I'm not going on a date with you."

He shook his head. "Okay, let me rephrase that so you don't jump to anymore conclusions." Another glare was sent his way. "Can Alex buy Izzie a drink?"

At that point she hated him just a little bit. That was their little inside joke and she couldn't help but give him a small smile. She didn't want to smile. She wanted him to go away and leave her to this. But he was relentless and she knew if she shot him down once he would only try again. It was concern, it was whatever part of him still had feelings for her, that prevented him from just accepting that she wanted to be left alone at the moment.

Then again she was so busy trying to remove any sign of George from the house that it hadn't occurred to her that she could just leave the house – and George – behind too. At least for the bulk of the night.

She took one last look at the box, and then replied, "Izzie would like that."

And that was how she ended up at Joe's getting miserable drunk and trying very, very hard to control herself from spilling her guts to a much more sober Alex who appeared to be playing designated driver or something to that effect. It was all going fine and they were laughing and talking like they used to before things got complicated. Then his pager went off.

"Dammit, it's my Jane Doe." He said, as he read the message on the small device. Alex looked to her with apologetic eyes and then glanced Joe's way. "Make sure she gets home safe."

"Yeah, no problem." Joe replied from where he was pouring drinks for someone else down at the other end of the bar and then Alex had left, leaving Izzie alone with her thoughts and her tequila. Or so she thought.

She hadn't expected the person who sat down next to her to be Callie. Meredith just getting off a late shift, or just some random person who was looking for an empty seat at the bar maybe. But it was Callie alright, and she was just as drunk as Izzie was, if not more.

"You look how I feel," Callie told her, motioning for Joe to refill whatever it was she was drinking.

"How's that?" Izzie asked, as cautiously as she could at this stage of the game. She was too inebriated to really be that nervous and jumpy no matter how she felt about either of the O'Malley's currently.

"Confused and more than a little bit frustrated." Callie responded, rooting through her purse for something.

"Is it the confusion that has you acting like we don't hate each other or is it all the alcohol?" Izzie replied, surprised at the way it came out. It wasn't harsh like normal but more of a simple question. She didn't know why Callie had come over to her.

"A bit of both actually." Callie said.

Izzie nodded, glancing at the other woman, about to say something but stopping when she saw what Callie was doing. Crushing what appeared to be a green gummy bear between her thumb and index finger like she wished to do it physical harm. "What are you doing?"

Callie looked up at her. "Pretending it's George." She then proceeded to bite the head off of the poor candy bear and Izzie soon realized that she had a bag full of little George stand-ins. She wondered if Callie believed in voodoo. If she did then George was in major trouble. "He's acting all sorry like a kid who got caught stealing the entire cookie jar and I can't for the life of me figure out exactly what it was that he did."

That was when it slipped out. "I slept with George."

Izzie braced herself for retaliation in whatever form it might take. She didn't know whether the fiery woman would scream at her or attempt to attack her right there in front of everyone. She did neither, opting instead to pop another bear in her mouth, shrugging, "Explains why he's so sorry."

She gaped. "That's it?" Izzie couldn't believe she was getting off that easily. There was just no way, drunk or not.

"Yep," Callie replied, sipping her drink, and adding, "We've all slept with George. You, me, Meredith, that whorish redheaded nurse. He's Mark Sloane in training."

For some reason Izzie found that extremely funny, a fit of giggles coming on before she could stop them.

Callie only watched her with casual interest. "Oh sure, you think it's funny that I married my very own manwhore." That only made Izzie laugh harder. "God could you imagine his face if he knew we were talking about him?"

"He was always saying how much he wanted us to get along." Izzie said, when she finally caught her breath. "Though I don't think this is what he had in mind."

"No, but it's a way to get back at him." Callie reminded her, with a small laugh of her own. It surprised Izzie how easygoing Callie was when George wasn't around to get them both defensive, when they shared common ground. Under different circumstances her and Callie might even be friends. She was about to say something to that effect when Callie's eyes brightened, an idea forming. "I know another, much more interesting way to get back at him."

---

Five hours later when Izzie awoke to a rather loud alarm clock, naked, and within close proximity to another warm body, she had the rather disturbing realization that this was the second time in less than a week that she had woken up in bed after a long night of drinking next to an O'Malley.


End file.
